Someday I'll Be President
by sexycereal0
Summary: The story of Marissa and Zach as told in snippets and secret conversations. To be continued. (MarissaZach)
1. 1

"You're Summer's friend, right?" His head tilted just so.

"Marissa Cooper, social chair – you don't know me?" She squinted.

"I know you." He admitted almost bashfully.

"Summer's friend." She agreed, lips pursed. "You do go to Harbor, right? Water polo team?"

"Yeah, Zach Stephens. I'm the captain."

"Ah. You took over from Luke."

He nodded. "You guys were really close, weren't you?"

"Heh. Sorta." She sighed. "We dated forever…"

"You were like school royalty." He declared.

"Well, you know, life gets complicated sometimes..." She drifted.

"Yeah." He smiled.

"So. You really like Summer?" She changed the subject, his unwavering gaze and pearled smile making her uncomfortable.

"She seems really great." He confessed. "Very… vibrant, full of life."

She laughed a little. "Not usually what Harbor guys look for in a girl – definitely not water polo players."

"Not every guy who plays a sport is a player."

"True." She inclined her head. "The ones I've met however…"

"I assure you, some of us are nice guys." The edge of his mouth tilted up.

She was quiet for a moment, letting the smile slide onto her lips. "Well, you go get some drinks and I'll find Summer." She offered.

* * *

"Marissa!"

"Hey, Zach." She stopped mid-step, turning.

"Hi. Could you give this to Summer?" He held out a long beaded necklace. "She left it at my house." He explained.

"Couldn't you just give it to her tonight? I mean you guys are dating." She bit the inside of her cheek.

"I know, but I won't see her till eight and she might need it." His grin was goofy.

"Sure." She nodded. "I'll pass it on."

"Thanks! I have practise now, but I'll see you later." He started off towards the pool as Marissa crossed the parking lot.

"Hey! Zach. You were right." She cracked a grin. "Some of you are nice guys."

He held her eyes for a beat, matching the elongated shape of her mouth. His hand raised in a wave before he backed away.

"Hey Zach, have you seen Summer?" Her long legs leaned easily against the student lounge chair.

His face fell. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Oh. Well I'm sure she's just—"

"—With Cohen." His features were painted with defeat.

"No!" She hurried. "No. I'm sure she's just—" The breath stopped in her mouth as Summer could clearly be seen walking through the doorway next to Seth. Letting a hand droop in the direction she finished. "With Seth."

His face was tight. "Yeah." He tried to smile with downcast eyes as Summer approached all smile and grace.

* * *

"I'm in a threesome." He let himself fall into the chair opposite her.

"Excuse me?" She spluttered, fingers tightening around her coffee.

"Dating Summer is like dating Seth and Summer." He clarified.

"Oh." She regained her composure. "Yeah, that's true."

"You've dated Summer?" His eyes were mischievous.

"No." She smiled, full and radiant. "I just mean, I get it. Those two are just…" She let the sentence hang, the meaning left to settle.

"Yeah, _just_." He sighed and she couldn't remember the pearled smile properly anymore.

The silence settled too and she let her eyes read sympathy. "You want a coffee?" She offered.

"Coffee would be great, thanks."

She ordered and they sat amicably. He radiated gratitude and she showed him her new shoes.

"Well, I should—I have class." She gestured.

He nodded, the smile creeping back – just a little, like elastic that needs to be re-stretched. "You should—"

"Well… I'll see you." She nodded too quickly, knocked out of their reverie.

"Yeah." He called after her. "Marissa – thanks."

Her smile was genuine. "No problem."

* * *

"Zach, how are you?" She noted his expression. "Newport lost it's charm after Italy?" The smile in her voice faded with his words.

"Italy wasn't really that great either."

"Oh. But I thought Francesca—" Her voice hinted confusion.

"Doesn't exist." He finished. After a moment he continued. "I just didn't want Summer to think I'd been moping after her."

She nodded softly. "It was harsh. I mean I love her, but still…"

"Yeah." Every breath he took was deep, like a sigh. Laboured, almost like he was too sad to fill his lungs.

"So, was the view from the hotel good?" She ventured with a wary smile.

His gloom cracked under her good intentions. "You know, it was."

"Well then the trip wasn't a total waste. Coffee?"

"Only if I can buy this time." He ventured.

"It's a deal."

The coffee was hot and thick with cream, the conversation flowing between breaths blown over the rims of cups.

"So, how are things with you? You and Ryan looked pretty friendly this morning." His voice was even, interested.

"Yeah, I guess. Nothings going to happen though – it'd be too weird now what with all the history and our families—Well, family."

"You do have one complicated family tree." He acknowledged.

"Tell me about it!" She laughed as the last of her latte trickled down her milky throat.

They both sat, empty cups cradled in idle hands. Hearts bursting with other people and eyes searching for something simple.

"We drink a lot of coffee together, one day we should go properly." She observed with gently curling lips.

"That'd be nice." He held out a hand to take her cup, fingers grazing her skin just so.

Her cheeks flushed. "After all, it's no fun being a third wheel all the time."

"From experience I'd have to agree." His eyes were a little darker.

"So… Coffee." Her eyes languidly made their way to where his fingers were still on her cup.

"Coffee." He agreed.


	2. 2

"So… What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Huh?" She looked up and over her shoulder, startled. "Oh, Zach – hey." Her smile sloped softly.

"I thought maybe you'd like that coffee." He offered.

"Coffee, sure. Coffee would be great." Nervous eyes scanned the room.

"Marissa, are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah. I just, I was supposed to meet Ryan." She admitted. "He's, uh, helping me move some things for the gala."

"Oh, well I have to—" He motioned away, head ducked slightly.

"No, wait." She turned from her bag, facing him properly. "I'm sorry Zach; I'd love to have coffee with you tomorrow. Meet you at the pier by noon?"

He considered a moment. "Sounds good." His smile was crescent, a tiny waxing moon of emotion.

She tipped the corners of her mouth up into a beam, brushing his hand with hers as they both turned to see Ryan waiting for her by the door of the lounge.

"Tomorrow." She promised through her smile.

* * *

"This gala is killing me." She sighed.

"You shouldn't get so stressed. You're doing the best you can." He assured.

"But what if it's not enough? If everything goes wrong and I ruin everyone's night?" She rambled.

"You won't. You've done this hundreds of times." He beamed.

"True." She relented.

"Then it'll be fine." His fingers reached out, tips touching hers across the table.

She released a breath she didn't know her lungs were holding when she realised.

Silence and breathing vibrated in the air. "This was… nice." She said finally.

"Nice." He agreed.

"You know, I think I need some fresh air. You want to go for a walk?" She suggested.

"Sure." Their fingers locked in stalemate, reluctant to go forwards or retract.

Doe eyes looked shyly through long eyelashes. "I'll just freshen up."

* * *

"Are we dating?" His question was sudden, but discreet.

"Uh, sorry—Um. What?" Deer-in-headlight eyes greeted him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rush you – it's just we've been going out for a few weeks now and—Well, I just wondered where I stood. If we're not then it's fine, really. Just – if you'd like to." He looked a little anxious.

Her eyes were febrile, delicate – her deliberation was slow and heavy behind them.

Taking his hand she bit her lip gently. "I'd like to."

His smile spread slowly.

The grains of sand stretched out before them both, frothing where they met the sea and she tilted her smile towards his – closing the gap between them as the tide stretched up the shore.

Her words came out slowly, quietly giddy against his lips. "We're dating."

"Well – that's nice." He smiled back.

* * *

"I—uh, I don't think we thought this through." Her tone attempted diplomatic.

"Thought what through?" He pretended.

She fought the words up through her throat. "Us. About us dating."

"What do we need to think about?" He was being irritatingly naïve and she wished she could be too.

"Summer." Her voice cracked over the word. "I really like you, Zach, but—"

"—You don't want to cheat on your best friend." He paused. "But we're not dating anymore – she's the one that left me." He reasoned, fingers on her wrist – over her pulse.

"Still…" She tried to fight some logic from her mouth – and failed.

I really like you, Marissa. And you seem to like me – just give it some time and she'll see that this isn't some ploy to get back at her." His tone was almost hypnotic, his eyes warm and genuine.

"Can we wait a little while… before we tell her?" She pleaded.

He nodded and she sighed, relieved.

"Can we wait over dinner?" He asked.

"Waiting is always better over dinner." Her slender fingers slid round the back of his neck – safe in private.

* * *

"You know this qualifies as a reason to break-up." Her face was dead-pan.

"What?"

"My Mother loves you." She teased. "That can't be a good thing."

"She seems nice. Definitely not as crazy as you described." He added.

"Well, you don't have to live with her." She reasoned.

"True. But you don't have to live with my Mother—"

"I like your Mom!" She grinned.

"Yeah, me too, but… she's a little much sometimes." He admitted.

"Now that I understand!"

They were quiet for a time.

"You know we have to tell her. Now my Mom knows we have about twelve hours before the whole of Newport knows." She seemed resigned.

"It is a scarily efficient grapevine." He looked up to where she was draped over one shoulder. "You want me to talk to her?"

"That's sweet—but I think I have to." She nodded.

"It'll be fine. Summer seems really into Seth – still. She's not going to worry about us."

"Let's hope so."


	3. 3

"She hates me." She sobbed.

"She doesn't hate you." He comforted, hands on her.

"She does—the things she said." Her chest heaved with the awkward angles of her breathing.

"It was just a shock." He placated. "We'll go see her tomorrow."

"She's never going to speak to me again, Zach." Her eyes frightened.

"She will." His thumb ran along her bottom lip, trying to stop the quaver.

She looked up at him through big, diluted eyes framed by tear-jewelled lashes.

"I don't want her to hate me." She whispered urgently.

"I know." He soothed. "She won't."

"Promise?" She stuttered.

"I can't." He seemed calm. "You just have to trust Summer. That she loves you."

"More than she loves you." She sighed out.

"She doesn't love me." Even voice, even hands.

Brokenly she spoke. "She just seemed so…"

"Well, she didn't really have any warning. At least I saw her and Cohen from a mile off." He reasoned.

"Everyone saw that." She smiled watery. Her smile broke on his intake of breath. "Sorry."

"No. Don't be." He assured. "I got something pretty good out of the deal." He coaxed a smile with his own.

"What would that be Mr. Stephens?" She swallowed.

"Well… mostly you."

* * *

"She called." Her voice was drained.

"See?" He stroked her shoulder warmly as he sat.

"It was weird." She breathed.

"Why?"

"Things with Seth aren't going so great. Apparently."

"Really?" He squinted.

"Yeah." She considered. "I'm not usually the one with the good guy."

They shared a small smile.

"So, what's wrong?" He hesitated. "No. Wait. It has nothing to do with me – and that feels really good. More importantly what did you talk about?"

"Us." She smiled sadly.

"Us?" He questioned warily.

"Yeah. Us." She confirmed.

"This sounds ominous."

"Oh, no. I just feel weird with her being pissed at me. I don't think Sum's ever been this pissed and I don't even know what the big deal is. She has Seth."

"Maybe it's not everything she thought it would be."

"They did kind of hype themselves." She agreed.

"But you know." He traced the outline of her jaw. "Their problems really aren't our problems."

"She's my best friend!" She protested.

"You don't have to be miserable just because she is." He sounded reasonable.

She put a palm to his cheek. "She's not miserable – just sad."

"Well you don't have to be."

"I haven't really been happy in a long time." She confessed.

"Then we need to fix that."

* * *

"I just hate shrinks." She shrugged.

"I didn't say 'shrink', I just think you'd feel better if you talked to someone about this." He spoke quietly.

"It's just one little drink." She tried.

"With half a bottle of vodka in it." He addressed.

Her eyes were strained and desperate. "Please, Zach. It's not a big thing." She swallowed.

"It is."

"No. It's not. It's just a drink." She waved the tumbler in front of her with shaky hands.

"Just a drink is a glass of champagne. This is not just a drink – I just want you to let someone help you Marissa."

"You're helping me." She implored.

"No. I'm not. You won't let me." He was frustrated.

She broke down just a little at his look. "I will. I will let you – just please no shrinks. I'll let you help me, I promise I will."

"Then give me the drink." He was determined.

"I just—" She croaked.

Eyes heavy with pain and shame tilted downwards with her face as she thrust the cup towards him. Not watching as he poured it out over the prize lawn.

She looked helplessly at the liquid sinking into the grass.

"Thank you—" He started.

"We won't work." She was empty.

"What?"

"You can't fix me." Her lips were numb. "You can't just—" She broke off, shaking her head.

"I—" He couldn't form words. "I'm not letting you do this."

She opened her mouth to protest wavily.

"You're drunk." He observed. "We're not talking about this while you're drunk. I'm taking you home and we'll talk once you've slept."

"Whatever." She started towards his car, tears threatening.

"Marissa, please." He reached out.

"I just wanna go home, Zach."

* * *

"Why won't you take my calls?" He looked stung.

She stopped. "You don't deserve to have to look after someone like me."

"What do you mean?" He guided her to the edge of the corridor.

"I'm not dragging you down with me. Ryan was right – that's all I ever do to people." She spoke brokenly.

"I don't feel like that." He stated.

"Well I do. And you don't deserve it." She insisted.

"What about what I want?"

She bit her lip – hard.

"Please don't make this difficult." She begged quietly.

"Everything worth having is. You have to start seeing that and stop hiding behind all these vices." He rested his forehead close to hers, leaving a gentle impression of his lips on her cheek.

"Please don't leave me."

"I'm not." He reassured.

She watched him disappear through the throngs of students decorating the hall with their presence.


End file.
